


dirty little secrets

by pointedperception



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Hannibal, Butt Plugs, Dirty Talk, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Manipulative Will Graham, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Teasing, Top Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pointedperception/pseuds/pointedperception
Summary: Hannibal gets off in a fancy restaurant, but it isn't because of the food.





	dirty little secrets

It started out as a joke while they were watching a movie one night, half paying attention to it in their drunken haze.

“You know those like --” Will starts to giggle at his unspoken words, “-- those remote controlled vibrators?”

Hannibal blinks, a little taken aback by the randomness of his question. “Yes? What about them?”

“We should… I mean, I’ve always kinda had this --” he interrupts himself again, giggling like a teenager in sex ed class, “-- this fantasy, I guess, of using one. In public, I mean.”

“Wherever did you get this idea from?” Hannibal says, drunkenly laughing along with him.

“I, uh, I saw it in a movie once -- not that kind of movie, okay, it just kinda -- it stuck with me. And now I’m telling you about it.” He bursts out laughing again at the absurdity of it all, and his inevitable embarrassment in the morning when Hannibal teases him about it forever.

“Have you ever shared this fantasy with someone else?”

“God, no,” Will says, running a hand over his face. “It’s so -- it’s so perverted, right?”

“Not really,” Hannibal replies. Will raises an eyebrow at him. “Humiliation is wound into the fabric of Americans’ sexual psyche from an early age; by making sexual desire taboo, it increases the perversion of one’s sexuality. Therefore, what is perverse cannot truly be perverted if it is experienced by the majority of people.”

“Sorry,” Will giggles, “I can't help but laugh at you saying ‘perverted’ so much. God, I’m drunk.”

“All I’m trying to say -- if you can get past me saying ‘perverted’--” he gives Will a condescending look, which combined with his slurring accent only makes it funnier to him, “-- is that I find the idea rather intriguing. If you would like it to become reality instead of staying a fantasy, that is.”

“Wait. Are you fucking serious?” Will exclaims, not believing this is actually a conversation he and Hannibal are having right now, much less that he _wants_ to do this. With him. _Oh God, I don't know if I can handle that._

“I am serious, and I think you will be able to handle it just fine,” he says, Will blushing as he realizes he’s saying his thoughts aloud. “Now in this… public vibrator fantasy, did you picture yourself on the giving end or the receiving end?”

“I, uh -- I don’t know? I never really thought I’d be able to do it, or who I’d even do it with.” He pauses to give it some thought. “Would you even… would you _let me_ do that to you?”

“This is your fantasy, Will; I want to fulfill it however you want me to.”

“But you would… would you enjoy that?”

“My darling boy, I would enjoy _anything_ you did to me,” Hannibal chuckles, running a hand through Will’s curls before pulling him in for a kiss.

“That’s… yeah, okay. You probably shouldn't tell me that. I might abuse that power.”

“I would love it if you did.”

“God, fuck,” Will hisses, kissing him deeper, his cock already half-hard.

“But,” Hannibal lightly pushes him away, breaking their kiss, “if you want me in prime condition, _this_ \--” he gestures to Will’s crotch, “-- will have to wait until tomorrow.”

_Tomorrow?_

“Yes, tomorrow. I’ll get the supplies in the morning.”

_Dammit. I’m doing it again._

“Yes, you are,” Hannibal chuckles, smiling at how adorable he could be when he was drunk, when he wasn't so belligerent. Maybe even when he was belligerent. “Go to sleep, love.” He kisses Will on the forehead and reaches over to turn out the light, finding Will already dead asleep on the pillow before the bulb stops burning.

  


 

 

Hannibal lets Will choose the location; he picks a suit-and-tie steakhouse by the ocean, one that will probably be busy and loud enough so not to draw as much suspicion for their _experiment_.

“Should I -- or you --” he blushes as Hannibal hands him the toy. It’s a simple black butt plug with a little handheld remote that he can easily slip in his pocket. Wherever he managed to find this specific item on such short notice remains a mystery, but Will is just grateful such a thing actually exists. And now they own it. And are about to use it. In a fancy, public restaurant.

“Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes. I just -- I’ve never put a butt plug in someone before, okay?”

“Perhaps I should do it then. Go wait in the car, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Hannibal hands him the remote and goes to the bathroom, acting as nonchalant as ever.

_Not for long._

Will waits in the car, looking over the small remote in his hands. There’s eight different settings - four levels of intensity and four different patterns, illustrated with wiggly lines that he can only guess what they mean. Hannibal returns and sees him looking confused, if not slightly overwhelmed.

“That one goes in waves, the next in short bursts, the next in alternating short and long bursts, and the last in long bursts only.”

“Thanks. The squiggles are a little cryptic.”

“I only ask that you keep it off while I drive, but we can begin as soon as I step out of the car at the restaurant. Is that okay?”

“I don't want to be in a car wreck, so yes.”

He wasn't completely sure he wasn't regretting this. What would happen if they were caught? What if it got them really caught, like FBI-involved-caught? _I can only imagine the headline: Murder Husbands Caught While Playing Out Perverted Sex Fantasy! What a way to go._

“Will?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

“Are we still good? Or do you want to go home? Either is fine with me, I just need to know.”

“No, I want to do this.” _God, I want this so badly._

“Then you don’t need to worry, love,” Hannibal reassures him, kissing him lightly but lovingly. “You have me at your mercy.”

That’s enough to kick Will into gear, a hot giddiness bubbling in his stomach. He tests out the vibrator on the lowest setting, while they're waiting to be seated. Hannibal doesn't respond other than jolting a bit when it first starts vibrating, smiling at him as they’re led to their table like this is just another completely normal night out.

 

The waiter takes their orders and hastily brings out their drinks -- just water, because neither of them want to dilute even a minute of this night with wine. Hannibal starts off talking as usual; going off on psychoanalytic and existential babble that Will usually actually finds interesting (though tiring at times), but he’s too distracted to really focus on words. And he’s not even the one with a vibrating plug in his ass.

Their appetizers arrive; some bruschetta and charcuterie on a slate slab, though certainly not as fancy as anything Hannibal makes. Still pretty good though. As they pick at their food, chatting away about weather and wayfaring, Will decides to turn up the intensity to the next level. Hannibal shifts uncomfortably in his seat and Will can see his composure crack for a moment, but he quickly regains it. _How disappointing._ There's an intoxicating sense of power that Will gets whenever he can break Hannibal’s steel-tight composure -- he discovered this the first time they slept together, a few weeks after the fall, and he’d been hooked ever since. But seeing it outside of the bedroom, without one of them on top of the other, was something entirely new. And he found that he absolutely _loved_ it. Oh, how fun tonight was going to be. Sometimes his drunk ideas did turn out for the better.

He takes one of the sausages and slowly places it in his mouth, making eye contact with Hannibal as he slips it down. Hannibal licks his lips in response.

“You know, you always lick your lips when you start to get… excited.”

“Do I?” Hannibal looks at him curiously. “I wasn't really aware of that.”

Will calls bullshit, but he’ll play along anyway. “Yeah, it's something I’ve noticed. It's your tell.”

“My tell for what, exactly?”

“That I have complete control over you,” Will smirks, switching the vibrations to the long burst pattern. Hannibal’s body jerks without his permission. Will can tell the lack of control over his own body pisses him off, which only excites him more. There’s still part of him that delights in seeing Hannibal in… not so much pain anymore, but in discomfort. He turns it back down to the lowest setting again, teasing him.

“You enjoy being in control. Or rather, seeing me out of control. Role-reversal is quite satisfying when we seek familiar change.”

“How do you like the bruschetta?”

“It's sweet, a little tangy. A hint of spice. A solid 7/10 for me.”

“Mmm. I think I’d rather save room for the main course, though, as delicious as these appetizers are.” He hits the button for intensity two. Another crack breaks over Hannibal’s eyes.

The waiter soon comes with their main dishes, both Steak Diane, medium rare. Will tentatively cuts into his steak, the red juices seeping out and staining the potatoes.

“Mine’s perfect. How about yours?”

Hannibal nods, already having done the same, “Quite delicious,” he comments, “the meat is very tender, and the sauce brings a nice savory flavor.”

Will switches between all of the settings at once, letting each one linger only for a moment. It definitely surprises Hannibal, as he breathes through his nose, eyes closing for a moment to regroup. Will sets the vibrations back on the second intensity level, which seems to be more effective after giving him a taste for what’s to come. He isn't quite squirming yet, but he's definitely gotten hard by now, because Will can see the haze of arousal in his eyes.

“You feeling alright, dear? You look a little flushed.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Hannibal says through gritted teeth, inhaling sharply as Will turns the vibrations up a notch.

Will turns back to his food, taking a purposefully large bite of steak and licking the sauce off his lips in the most obscene way he can. He’s pleased to see Hannibal watching him, cheeks reddened and sweat running down his temples.

“Is your food okay?” he says, motioning to Hannibal’s mostly untouched plate.

In response, Hannibal angrily slices off a piece of his own steak, nodding as he chews it. Will watches him chew, waiting for the moment just before he swallows to hook his foot around Hannibal’s, trailing up his calf with light pressure. Hannibal half chokes on his food, coughing it out involuntarily.

“Here. Drink some water,” Will says, pushing Hannibal’s glass closer to him. Hannibal obeys, shooting Will a look that's half anger, half lust. He sighs from relief as he feels the vibrations diminish, grateful for some respite, though he’s sure it will be short lived.

“Thank you,” he spits out, half-faking a smile.

Will pulls his foot back, continuing his meal. Hannibal follows suit, making small talk as he eats. _It’s deflection_ , Will thinks as he plays along. _Can’t have that_.

The waiter returns to refill their glasses, then notices their mostly finished plates. “Would you gentlemen care for dessert?”

“Yes, I think so,” Hannibal says, looking to Will for agreement. He nods, smiling as he turns the vibrations on again.

“I can tell you the list, if that’s alright?” He begins rattling off the menu, looking back and forth between the two men as he speaks.

Hannibal manages to remain composed as ever, which pisses Will off to no end. Defiantly, and without warning, he presses his foot against Hannibal’s crotch. Hannibal jumps at the sudden pressure, biting his lip to keep from moaning. Curiously, Will rocks his foot into Hannibal's erection, grinning with satisfaction when he gets a small whine out of him.

“Does any of that sound agreeable to you?” the waiter asks, blissfully ignorant to their little game.

“I think I’ll have the tarte tatin. And a coffee, black. What about you, _darling?_ ” He gives extra emphasis to the last word by pressing his foot harder into Hannibal’s crotch, cocking his eyebrow at him. He delights as Hannibal struggles to come up with a response, having been too distracted to actually listen.

“I’ll, uh, have the same,” he says hurriedly, only slightly relieved when the waiter finally leaves. He turns back to Will, and _oh boy_ , if looks could kill, he’d already be dead. “Are you trying to get us kicked out?”

“Of course not,” Will says coyly, suddenly freeing Hannibal’s crotch from his podiatric assault. “I’d hate to miss the _big finish_.” He’s not entirely sure Hannibal won’t kill him after they’re done, but he’s almost certain it would be well worth it just to see him this flustered, unhinged, and completely at his mercy in such a dignified public place.

He turns up the vibrations two-fold and Hannibal hits his fist on the table. “I think it’s time to switch things up a bit, don’t you?” Will smirks, pressing a setting on the remote that sends the vibrations in waves of varying intensities, watching Hannibal struggle to keep himself from rocking back and forth against the plug. Out of his peripherals, he can see the table next to them glancing over in curiosity, and he can see that Hannibal sees them, too. Watching him clench and unclench his jaw, nostrils flaring as he struggles to keep his composure.

Will leans across the table to whisper, “Do you think they know? Do you think they can tell what’s happening to you? That _I’m_ doing this to you?”

“You're a sadist,” Hannibal whispers back through staccato breaths. He’s sweating profusely now, enough to make small wet spots on his shirt; he’s grateful for being able to at least partially blame it on the tropical humidity.

“Isn't that what you wanted to bring out in me? You brought this upon yourself, _Hannibal_.”

“You shouldn’t -- call me that -- here,” he says in rhythm with the waves of pleasure shooting through his spine. God, he really has created a monster. One that could bring him to his knees with just the sound of his name leaving his lips. “You’re always -- the one -- worried about being too -- ah -- too reckless.”

“ _You love it._ ”

He’d be damned to admit that the added danger is edging him ever so closer to coming, though he can tell that Will can read it on his face like an open book.

“I think I need to excuse myself.”

As if on cue to arrive at this very inopportune time, their waiter presents them with their desserts.

“Well, you can’t leave now. Wouldn't want that ice cream to melt all over your plate in your absence. What a sticky white mess that would be.”

Hannibal hisses through his teeth as he sinks back into his chair, tearing apart his tarte tatin to release some of his frustration. Suddenly, the vibrations cease completely.

“Seems you have some mercy left after all,” he says, trying to settle his breathing down again.

“We’re not done yet,” Will quips, “I’d hate to rush this. It’s been such a pleasurable evening, hasn't it?”

“I suppose.”

“Well, I’m having a great time.”

“I can tell.”

“I’m sorry, dear, is something the matter?” He bats his eyelashes almost comically, tracing his fingers over the back of Hannibal’s hand.

“Just peachy. _Dear_.” At his indignation, Will turns the vibrations on again, immediately returning whatever blood had dispersed from his erection in the last minute or so.

After Will finishes his dessert, he props his foot back up on the edge of Hannibal’s chair, just barely touching his clothed heat. Will slowly presses against it, timing his pushes with the crescendo of each wave of vibration. It takes all of Hannibal’s strength not to buck against him. He's fully flushed from his ears down, his bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead, his wet shirt clinging to the outline of his muscles underneath, eyes half-lidded and mouth agape.

“You’re beautiful,” Will whispers to him, and means it with every fiber of his being. It’s what finally pushes Hannibal over the edge; he fists the tablecloth and bites his lip so hard it bleeds, eyes fluttering to the back of his head, unable to stop himself from riding out his orgasm against the sole of Will’s shoe. He feels his warm cum soak through his boxers to the front of his trousers, the vibrations in the plug still racking against his over-sensitive prostate.

“Please,” he begs, and Will obligingly turns it off. He’s gotten what he wanted, at least for now. Then he realizes that he’s now the one who’s painfully hard. _Fuck_.

He flags down the waiter, who looks quizzically at the sweaty, panting Hannibal but doesn't say a word.

“We’d like our check now, please.”

It doesn't take long for him to produce the bill, which Will pays for. They're both more than eager to leave. Hannibal gingerly stands up, quickly grabbing his blazer and draping it conspicuously over his arm, in front of his crotch. Will does the same -- granting a look from his partner. He simply guides him towards the restroom without a word.

It’s empty, _thank God_. He shoves Hannibal into the handicap stall, locking the door behind them. His mouth is on him before anything else, then his hands, pulling down his damp trousers and pushing him face-first against the wall. Hannibal moans as Will removes the plug, setting it on the back of the toilet. He fumbles with his belt buckle and zipper, too hard to bother with removing his pants.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who was getting worked up,” Hannibal says, moaning again as he feels Will slide inside him.

“Fuck, Hannibal, you’re so -- you’re already so open -- it's so good,” Will breathes into his ear, pulling his hips toward him as he fucks into him. Hannibal nearly cries as the head of Will’s cock brushes against his still overstimulated prostate; he’s too spent to get hard again, but the pleasure is fantastic, if almost unbearable.

“You like me using you like this, don’t you? Making you come in your pants in the middle of a crowded room, then taking you back here and fucking you like a toy,” Will pants, desperately close to coming himself. Hannibal whines in agreement.

“Answer me,” Will demands, releasing a hand from his waist to tug on his hair, forcing his head back.

“Yes,” Hannibal answers, “I love it, I love -- ah -- when you fuck me like this -- when you make me yours -- ah, when you take what you want from me -- my precious mongoose --”

Will bites down on his neck as he comes inside of him, moaning around his flesh, sucking it into a bruise. He pulls out and puts himself back in his pants, zipping up as he admires his work.

“You really are beautiful, you know.” He turns Hannibal around to kiss him on the lips.

“And you really are a sadist,” he replies, breaking apart to pull up his now ruined trousers, trying to regain whatever was left of his dignity. “And I hope you realize we can never, ever come back to this restaurant again.”

“God, no,” Will chuckles. “The food wasn't that great, anyway.”

“No, it really wasn’t. I don't think I would've finished it even under normal circumstances.”

“At least you finished _something,_ ” Will teased.

“Oh, this isn't even close to being finished, my love. Next time it’ll be my turn to foot the bill," Hannibal replies, kissing Will deeply again. He leads him out with his hand on the small of his back.

Will blushes at the idea of being able to do this again, already dizzy with anticipation.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow it is.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I did actually see this in a romcom movie once. Though it didn't go quite like this.


End file.
